Good Show, Molly Hooper
by elfigreen14
Summary: Written as part of the Ladies of Sherlock Promtathon on LiveJournal. Prompt proposed by its art: Molly has to "be Sherlock." And of course, Sherlock finds out about it. Review my first Sherlock fic, pretty please! Rating for mentions of prostitution, murder, and general paranoia.


***Written for the LJ Ladies of Sherlock Prompt: Molly has to "be Sherlock."***

XXX

**Good Show, Molly Hooper**

"What do you mean she's not a prostitute?" asked Lestrade. "You said she fit the profile we had."

"That was before I took a better look at her fingernails," Molly said quietly. She knew Lestrade was all ready to give his team a profile on the girl and her supposed attacker. She was about to tear that profile to pieces, and she felt awful about it. On the other hand, Greg would get a lot more done with the right profile, which she was shyly about to give him.

"Her fingernails? Molly, what are you going on about?"

"Greg, look at her. Really look at her, and see what she's telling you." Oh Lord. Oh no, no, no. Molly was about to pull a "Sherlock" on him. He would admit, he did miss the consulting detective quite a bit. But that didn't mean Lestrade enjoyed being proven wrong on his theories and investigations time and again. And now he was going to get it from Molly too? "Look at her nails. What do you see?"

Greg leaned over to the girl's body to take a look. "A sharp-looking manicure."

Dr. Hooper cleared her throat timidly. "Er, no Greg. The nail polish. I recognized the polish on her nails. My aunt used to wear the exact same colour, before she divorced her rich cheating husband." Lestrade gave her a confused glance. She shut her eyes and shook her head nervously. "Sorry, you didn't need to know. Anyway, I took a sample of the polish and realized I was right. It's a brand they only make in France, and they use crushed sapphires to give it a richer hue. So what kind of prostitute can afford a 140€ bottle of nail polish?"

"A rich girl with a rich boyfriend. So she's rich and French, then?"

"No, her skin tone suggests somewhere in the Iberian Peninsula. The manicure is fresh; I'd say a couple of days old at the most. She just had it done somewhere here in town. And there's only one salon in London that carries this particular brand – Lyonessa on Trenton Drive."

"Alright then," Lestrade replied. "We'll get over there and start –"

"Actually," interjected Molly meekly, "I already know who she is. Sophiana Gouveia, Portuguese socialite."

"What? Daughter of the Portuguese Ambassador to England?" Lestrade was going to lose it. "Wha-…How did you know, Molly?"

Molly pointed to Sophiana's left ear. "The tattoo under her ear. _Maria II, A Boa Mãe_. Maria II, the Good Mother. The ink is new as well."

"Well, we know she was seven weeks pregnant." Lestrade ran a hand through his graying hair. Oh, this was going to be a big one. And Molly, pulling this brilliance out of nowhere. _I suppose Sherlock just rubs off on you,_ he thought to himself. "Probably hasn't told anyone yet."

"Maria II was a dedicated mother who put her children above all else. Sophiana was probably ready to give up her debutante ways and devote herself to her child. And I think she wanted the father to do the same – I'm guessing he's the murderer. The skin particles on her neck and the bruise on her right arm tell us he used his left arm to asphyxiate her while he held her right arm from behind."

Lestrade exhaled deeply. And this had seemed so simple when he'd walked into the morgue ten minutes ago. "Right, so we're looking for a left-handed bastard who wouldn't want the news of the baby getting out. So powerful, and high up enough to be dating an ambassador's daughter."

"Roy Tennison, the soap actor. He was the last of her boyfriends, the only one who would've been with her at the time. She's been single since then, if the cat hairs on her sweater were anything to go by." Molly knew how that went. Sherlock had been so nice to point it out when they first met...

She was broken out of her daze by a small cough and another puzzled look from Lestrade. "What? Don't tell me you don't indulge in the occasional trashy tabloid, Greg! There was a picture of them in one of the March issues," she replied as she looked to the floor, embarrassed.

Greg shook his head in disbelief. "Well Molly, looks like you've done my job for me." He patted her on the back as he made his way out of the morgue. Without looking back, he called back to her.

"Sherlock would be proud."

XXX

After fifteen minutes of deducing strangers and their conversations, he was bored. Not even the added stimulation of translating the Portuguese to English made the people of the park any more interesting to Sherlock. He walked over to the newsstand for that day's paper and a familiar name caught his eye on one of the headlines.

_SCOTLAND YARD SOLVES SOCIALITE'S MYSTERIOUS DEATH_

_London – DI Greg Lestrade of Scotland Yard announced on Tuesday morning that the Jane Doe they found on Saturday evening was none other than the body of Ambassador Francisco Gouveia's daughter Sophiana. Her body was found near the Thames River at nearly one in the morning, apparently dead from asphyxiation - this report is now confirmed. Soap opera actor Roy Tennison is now in custody and has been charged with two counts of first degree murder, one count for the murder of Sophiana and the other for her unborn child of seven weeks._

"_The evidence we had was slim at first," said DI Lestrade. "Then we received some particularly useful insight from one of the brilliant pathologists at Saint Bartholomew's Hospital, and from there we collected the necessary pieces of the puzzle." _

_Ambassador Gouveia and his family have declined to comment at the moment…_

Particularly useful insight…Saint Bart's…brilliant pathologist. Sherlock's mouth upturned into a smirk. There was only one brilliant pathologist at Bart's.

XXX

Molly had that Wednesday off, and she was enjoying it with a late breakfast and Toby curled up at her feet. She was about to start her laundry when her mobile alerted her to a new text.

_It took you two days. I would've solved it in seven hours._

_SH_

Molly stuck out her tongue at her phone and threw it at her couch. She'd solved a crime Sherlock-style, and he was insulting her! Why she had ever helped him fake his own death and sneak out of the country…Oh, right. She loved him – damn. She started again towards her laundry basket when another text arrived.

_Still, good show Molly Hooper._

_SH_

And the butterflies in her stomach fluttered once again.

XXX

**A/N – This wasn't beta'd, and was my first foray into Sherlock. Love it, hate it – but please review and tell me! Hope everyone on the LJ Ladies of Sherlock Promptathon liked it.**

**And Emcee Frodis, if you happen to read this, yes, I borrowed the "tattoo of a monarch" thing from you. Don't hate me!**


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